


Rough, Smooth

by alby_mangroves



Series: Yuletide Stories [14]
Category: Jurassic Park Original Trilogy (Movies)
Genre: Alan survived dinosaurs less lethal than Billy's dimples, Established Relationship, Laughter During Sex, M/M, Missing Scene, Needs More Dinosaurs!, Older Man/Younger Man, Yuleporn, Yuletide 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-22 20:46:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17066810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alby_mangroves/pseuds/alby_mangroves
Summary: No force on earth or heaven would get him on that island. Flying over it, on the other hand . . . well.





	Rough, Smooth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pollyrepeat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pollyrepeat/gifts).



> Thank you to [redacted] for the beta and cheering <3

“I can’t believe you’re really going back,” Billy said, stretching out on the bed, head cushioned on his folded arms. 

Alan didn’t ogle him, though, because Alan was a well-respected member of the scientific community who didn’t gawp at smooth slivers of tanned, lightly-haired belly skin.

“Yes, well.” Sometimes words were difficult.

They’d left the Kirbys back at the bar and gone home so Alan could pack his go-bag; he still couldn’t quite believe the Kirbys were leaving for Isla Sorna early next morning, let alone that Alan was going with them, coming along for the ride as some kind of glorified (and soon to be ridiculously well funded) tour guide. 

It had been sanctioned somehow, although Alan should have asked more questions because now that he’d had some time to think past the check burning a hole in his wallet there was a weird feeling in his gut about the whole thing. It was made out for a sum large enough to fund their research for years—years of being able to live and work side by side with Billy—but goddamnit, he should have asked more damn questions.

But, the thing of it was, Alan was curious. It would take a good drawing and quartering to get him to admit any such thing, of course, but . . . well. One couldn’t really deny one’s own internal monologue, and Alan hadn’t gotten to the top of his field by _not_ being curious about dinosaurs. It had all happened so quickly, and he’d had eight years to dissect the whole thing and second-guess every decision; eight years since his life had changed in a most fundamental way and there were still days when he couldn’t really believe what had happened, what he’d seen and experienced at Isla Nublar.

Did nature find a way, as Malcolm had predicted? Were the beasts thriving on Isla Sorna? Which species had prevailed? Were there animals that Alan hadn’t had a chance to see back then that he might see now?

No force on earth or heaven would get him on that island. Flying over it, on the other hand . . . well. It would be different this time. He’d be well away from any action, away from the animals and safe in a plane flying overhead. Still.

“I wish I’d been there with you, back then,” Billy said, not a small amount of wistfulness in his voice. “It’s still hard to believe, you know?”

“What is?”

“That they’re out there. That dinosaurs exist in the world and they’re out there, just walking around while we look for their fossils in rocks.”

Alan nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“You _guess_ so?” Billy huffed an incredulous laugh and unleashed the devastating power of his wide, deep-dimpled smile at Alan, who smiled helplessly back, feeling awkward and rough and at a loss. Sometimes words were very difficult.

“You know they’re not real, Billy, they’re genetically-engineered—’

“—yes, yes, oh my god,” Billy laughed, rueful. “Of course you’d say that. But you were _there_. You saw them, Alan. You _touched_ them. They’re as real as you and me, however they came to be.”

“The fossils are just as real and you touch them every day!”

“Touching a living, breathing animal is not the same as touching their bones,” Billy groused.

“I have it on good authority that touching bones is quite rewarding,” Alan said primly, immediately regretting everything when Billy started to laugh. “I simply meant that it’s as though you were saying paleontology has no worth now that Hammond’s creations exist and we can touch them, which is somewhat like saying that the original Abbey Road album recordings on vinyl have no worth now that CDs exist and we can listen to them.”

“Yeah, well, I still wish I’d had the chance, back then. That’s all.” Billy cleared his throat, looking very much like Alan had missed the point. Which Alan absolutely hated almost as much as the fact that Billy no longer looked relaxed and happy, and now looked tense and disappointed.

It was all going wrong. Alan blinked at the unexpected pensiveness, wanting desperately to go back to a few moments before when temporary separation sex was probably on the table. “I won’t be touching them this time, if that’s any consolation.”

Billy sighed dramatically. “Not really, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

Alan sat on the edge of the bed and began to unlace Billy’s boots. “It won’t be much of an adventure, you know. It will probably be like those memories of childhood, you know the ones - when you remember everything as being enormous, but then when you go back to the same places to see the same things as an adult, everything is suddenly much less imposing.”

Alan dropped Billy’s boots to the floor, and when he looked up, Billy was serving him with his most unimpressed glare.

Alan chanced a small grin. “It will be the opposite of an adventure. Positively sedate.”

“Sedate?” Billy snorted a laugh. “Well, all right, as long as it’s _sedate_. Wouldn’t want you to overexert yourself anyway.”

Alan blinked. “Why, you cheeky little—”

“And it’s just as well the plane won’t be touching down on the island, there’s usually a lot of walking when you’re out in the field, not sure if you’re up to it, your hips are—” 

Alan lunged, tagging Billy to the bed, wriggling until Billy was shaking with laughter. “There’s nothing wrong with my damn hips,” Alan muttered, bewildered at how Billy did this to him every damn time, made him feel impulsive and frisky and playful when Alan—knowing himself as he did—had never to his knowledge been any of those things.

He kissed Billy’s wide, smiling mouth until it fell open for him so sweetly, and then he kissed it some more, mouthing across the blade of Billy’s jaw to nuzzle and nose at the sandy curls behind his ear until Billy’s breathing was satisfyingly shallow.

“Still, maybe you’re right,” he murmured into the dip of Billy’s throat, barely kissing the skin and delighting in the resulting shiver. “I really should conserve all my energy for tomorrow.” Then he pulled away and lay back against the pillows.

It took Billy a moment, but when he came up to rest on his elbows, hair satisfactorily mussed and mouth well-kissed, he looked to be at a crossroads between astonished and very slightly impressed wholly despite his better judgment, and Alan was so ridiculously proud of himself that it was hard not to allow his eyebrows to break out into interpretative dance.

“You know, you’ve got a point there,” Billy said, thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t want to send you out into the field depleted—” and Alan simply couldn’t hold in the snort even as Billy talked over him. “—so tell you what, old man,” Billy said, eyes sliding over him with a look that never failed to make Alan’s mouth turn dry, “why don’t you let me check those hips, make sure you’re field-ready.”

“You are such a brat,” Alan said weakly.

Billy laughed and started working on getting Alan’s belt open. “Whatever you say, Daddy.”

“Oh my God,” Alan said, mortified, his face burning hot, and Billy took one look at him and started cackling, all while peeling down the zipper of Alan’s trousers. Alan's throat clicked on a dry swallow. “Please do not _ever_ say that ag— oh, hell.”

“What was that, Doctor Grant?” Billy looked at him through his lashes, nose nudging Alan’s cock through his boxers. “Nothing? That’s what I thought. Mmm, this all looks in order,” Billy said and pulled Alan’s flies wide open and god, _shit_ , Alan had to close his eyes and pretend that Billy looking at him that way didn’t absolutely set his blood on fire. “I think you should be fine for tomorrow, but I do have a suggestion.”

“Oh?” It was the best Alan could do. His brain was definitively offline, and Billy’s breath was ghosting hotly over his crotch.

“You’re gonna have to go easy,” he said, lipping at Alan over his boxers, before peeling them down over his hips until he had him free, cock fattening up against his belly. Then he sat up and stripped off, his t-shirt, his pants, and the snug little shorts that Alan loved so much. Alan was going to die. “Watch your step. Just take it a little bit at a time,” Billy said, looking up and catching his eye before taking Alan’s cock between his lips, loose and soft, wetting him up with gentle sucks. What the hell were they talking about? Alan had no idea. “Like this,” Billy murmured before sliding him right into his mouth, and Alan sank his fingers into the bedding with a breathless moan.

Billy took him apart unhurriedly, leisurely, a little bit at a time just as he’d promised, and god but Alan loved him, loved his short, curly mop and his ever smiling eyes and the husk in his voice. When Billy reached behind himself with a dollop of their good lube, all Alan could do was lay back helplessly patting at his hair, his shoulders, his pretty face, whatever he could reach with his shaking hands.

“Come with me tomorrow,” he said finally, as Billy slowly lowered himself down onto him, rocking his hips nice and easy to work Alan all the way inside the hot clutch of his body.

“Damn right,” Billy breathed and braced himself on Alan’s chest. “Who else will make sure you’ve got your cane nearby when you need it,” and Alan was still smiling when Billy wrung his climax out of him and his face hurt from it when they finally made it under the covers, Billy’s own ratty go-bag lined up side-by-side next to Alan’s in the hallway, ready to go.

_*Fin*_


End file.
